


How the Light Gets In

by PurpleProteinShake



Category: Futurama
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode Related, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5472521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleProteinShake/pseuds/PurpleProteinShake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Transformed into a human, Bender finds himself confused by his shifting feelings for Fry, especially when he feels his fragile human heart break when he sees Fry cry after yet another rejection from Leela. He finds himself wanting to comfort Fry, to protect him from harm, to make him feel good – and forget all about Leela. (Set during "Anthology of Interest II".)</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the Light Gets In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeiouna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeiouna/gifts).



There are so many new sensations to deal with that Bender is surprised to find that any of them are strong enough to overwhelm the rest. He thought that perhaps, if any emotion were to break from the others to become strong enough to properly notice, it would be hunger, or thirst, or one of the other rather nauseating ‘needs’ that organic units feel. So he feels a strange mixture of surprise and irritation when it is the revoltingly human emotion of compassion – of all things! – that cracks through his still mostly-robotic thought-matrix. 

Fry – never the strongest of humans – is saddened by the rejection of his romantic advances by the human female, Leela, and as he tells Bender his latest sorrowful tale, tears begin to leak from his eyes. Used to this behaviour, Bender does not expect to be especially moved by it, and so when compassion rises in him – an uncomfortable pinging which begins in his gut and prickles all the way up his spine – and he finds himself leaning forward to brush Fry’s tears away with his own fingertips, he doesn’t know who is more surprised, Fry or himself. 

Fry looks up at him with moist eyes. “B-Bender?” he stutters. He looks as confused as Bender feels. “Umm…” Fry pauses, as if unsure what to say. Bender certainly is, even if he still hasn’t removed his fingertips from Fry’s cheek – the new sensations of warmth and damp and life are too much for him to consider letting go. “Bender, are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Bender gently wipes a new tear away with the pad of his thumb. A little uncertainly, he adds, “You’re the one with the emotional pain or…whatever. Aren’t I supposed to listen to you and comfort you and all that shit?” 

“Uhh…” Fry muttered uncertainly. His eyes still hadn’t left Bender’s, the expression in them something Bender could only describe as apprehensive, like there’s something he’s trying to figure out but he can’t quite grasp it yet. “Uhh….I guess that’s how it goes in those chick flicks…”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you, buddy,” Bender whispers. 

Fry looks at him for a moment, mouth still gaping slightly in shock, before it snaps shut, and he quickly pulls back, snatching his warmth from Bender’s touch. “It’s cool, man,” Fry says, a little sharply. “She’ll get over it, and then I’ll try again, I guess.” He leans back on the couch abruptly, and turns on the television. “Ooh, look! An _All My Circuits_ marathon!” 

The change in Fry’s speech patterns has Bender confused – while still using many of the same words he normally does when he is newly entranced by a television show or kitchen gadget or something colourful and shiny, his voice sounds deeper, more serious, as if he is forcing levity, masking something else from showing through on the surface. 

It takes Bender a moment to realise that he is still exactly where Fry left him, leaning forwards, fingers reached out. Quickly, he sits back on the couch. “Great!” he exclaims, trying not to wince at the overly-forced tone of his voice – not that Fry has noticed; his eyes are fixed on the TV, his entire body locked up and closed off. “Uh, want a beer?” Bender asks. 

“Sure,” Fry replies coolly, eyes still locked on the screen. “I restocked the bar-fridge just the other day. There’s a whole case-full in there.” Fry’s face is pulled so tight Bender wonders if it's painful.

Handing Fry his beer, Bender leans back on the couch and tries to focus on the TV screen. But all he can feel is a tight clenching in his gut that comes when Fry shifts to the very opposite end of the couch, and stays there for the rest of the afternoon.

And all Bender can do is pretend that it doesn’t hurt.

-

Bender knows something is really wrong when he can’t focus properly on the story on the screen: the season finale of _All My Circuits_ was fast approaching and Calculon’s-evil-twin-brother-who-murdered-their-sister-and-was-decapitated-by-their-long-lost-father-returns-from-the-dead-for-the-ninth-and-last-time-to-exact-his-final-revenge arc, in the lead up to the beginning of the Calculon-is-framed-for-the-murder-of-his-evil-twin-brother-and-is-put-on-Death-Row arc that starts next week.

He's restless, so he gets up off the couch.

He knows he's heading for the ship, where Fry is working, but he won't allow himself to admit it.

But before he knows it, he's next to Fry, watching his friend work on the ship.

The ship, which is starting to make an alarming grinding noise...

“Fry! Get down!”

The engine erupts in a burst of heat and energy that spirals outwards, engulfing all organic matter in its wake. 

Bender coughs and splutters; the smoke is thick and opaque, filling his lungs and mouth, temporarily blinding him. He can only hope that the shaking object in his arms is Fry. _Please, please…_

“B-Bender?” 

Bender squints, and as the smoke clears he finds himself nose-to-nose with his friend. A thin trail of blood leaks down Fry’s forehead, and Bender gently pushes back Fry’s hair to examine the injury. He hadn’t noticed before how thick it was, how it was red, not orange – almost brown. “Are you hurt?” Bender croaks.

He draws his eyes back down to find Fry still looking at him, his expression different now – serious, troubled, like it had been when Bender had wiped away his tears over Leela, as if it were the first time he’d ever laid eyes on him. 

“Thank you for saving me,” Fry’s voice is raspy from the smoke, and barely breaks through the heavy silence.

“Anytime,” Bender whispers, his hand still in Fry’s hair, the crazy spikes of his fringe stuck between Bender’s clumsy human fingers. “I didn’t want you getting hurt. Human bodies aren’t really made to withstand fire and energy that strong. That explosion might have blown you apart and…” Bender trails off, out of breath. He didn’t know he’d been holding it, forcing out all his words so quickly he now feels light-headed. “And then you wouldn’t be here anymore and–” Bender trails off as he feels Fry’s thumb tracing his bottom lip, while Fry’s fingers trail up to brush his face.

“I’d miss you, too, Bender,” Fry says softly. “I’d miss you a lot. More than I miss my parents, and Seymour, and even anchovies!”

Bender can only stare at him, unsure as to how to respond, flattered yet apprehensive.

“Anchovies?” Bender asks. He knows how much Fry misses those: he never shuts up about them every time they have pizza.

“Uh-huh,” Fry nods earnestly. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…well, you’re important to me. I…I’d really miss you if you weren’t around anymore. It’s…it’s just taken me a long time to realise…”

And Fry leans forward and kisses him – nothing more than a chaste pressing of lips, but it’s the most exciting thing Bender has ever experienced, and he wishes that he knew what to do in response. Just as he feels Fry beginning to draw back – hesitantly, as if he’s done something wrong – Bender follows him, leaning into Fry’s mouth. He feels Fry smile against his lips; feels his body relax from what can only be relief. 

“Fry,” Bender whispers. “I’m sorry…I…I don’t know what to do,” he mumbles, shivering as he feels Fry’s hand run up his back, coming to rest between his shoulder blades. 

_Shit,_ Bender thinks. He’s never felt so stupid in his life. His programming never covered this. 

“It’s okay, Bender,” Fry soothes. “This is new for me, too,” he whispers as his lips move to Bender’s neck. 

“What…what do you mean?” Bender asks shakily, confused. The feeling of Fry’s lips on his neck is creating a strange heat that curls sharp and bright up and down his spine. 

Fry chuckles, and begins to kiss Bender’s neck, smirking when he hears Bender moan. “I’ve never been with a guy before,” he whispers right into Bender’s ear. “But I think it’s pretty much all the same stuff and junk…”

“What…what do we do?” 

Fry laughs again, louder this time, and Bender is sure that there’s some innuendo he’s missed. “I’ll show you,” Fry whispers. “C’mon,” Fry takes Bender’s hand and tugs him forwards.

“Where are we going?” Bender asks, following Fry despite his trepidation.

“Home,” Fry says.

“To…to bed?” Bender whispers.

Fry stops, and turns to face Bender. “Is that what you want?”

Bender looks at his friend for a long moment, studying his face, his crazy hair, the strange, heated look in Fry’s green eyes…

He swallows. “Yes. That’s what I want.”

Fry smiles.

-

Bender’s long heard humans rant and rave endlessly about their numerous biological functions, but none so much as sex. And now, Bender has to admit, that for once he understands why. Mostly, he’d found being human to be a revolting experience…but as he looks into Fry’s eyes, he realises that it’s all worth it. He finds it stupid and implausible and even quixotic, but Bender feels like he can see all that is important to him in Fry’s blissful look, the misleadingly complex, organic sight-matrix of his friend conveying to Bender all that matters in the world. 

Fry gently touches Bender’s face with his fingertips, and Bender can feel the tremors running through Fry’s body. 

“You’re shaking,” Bender whispers. 

Fry blushes, a sight which Bender finds absolutely fascinating. Curious, Bender strokes the side of Fry’s flushed face, marvelling again at the heat of his skin, at the feeling of pure life underneath the surface. “So are you,” Fry replies.

“Ah, but I have an excuse: I’ve never done this before,” Bender retorts, but any sarcasm that Bender meant to express has been lost under the sensation of Fry’s touch on his skin.

“Technically, neither have I,” Fry reminds him, but Bender can’t really hear him over the sound of blood rushing in his ears as Fry’s hand gently closes around him.

“Shit…” Bender hisses. He feels like he’s experiencing sensory overload.

“Do you want me to stop?” Fry asks.

“Nnngh,” is all Bender can manage as he reaches down to guide Fry’s hand back to where it was. 

Even if the Professor never found a way to reverse the process and he was stuck in this human body and its limited life expectancy, he would go to his grave happy. 

He's had _this_.


End file.
